RE-EDIT 9/25/08 I polished it up a bit and changed a few sentences that changed a few meanings.
Portrait of a Lady
The Bay Area City Wide Boxing Championship was underway. It was a three-day event which took place during the weekend and afterschool on the last day. Top boxers from the different school districts in Iwatodai competed for the title of best amateur boxer, and all knew the prestige they would take if one were able to defeat Akihiko Sanada in the ring. The boxer in question was at least able to take his mind off of things as he fought bout after bout. He recognized many of the competitors and had even hung out with them a few times afterward in the evening. Some had sharpened their skills, and respect was renewed between the pugilists after their bouts. Some came to confront their grudges and each time they fought, it was personal and they put their manhood on the line. On the last day, amidst screaming crowds and an orgy of shrieking girls, Akihiko again fought the sneering boxer from the rival school, and after much difficulty, swung a KO at the opponent.
The battle was won. It was his arm that the referee declared the victor and it was in his hands that he was given the trophy and scholarship check. But at the end of the day, as he cooled off in the showers, he thought once again of his friend who recently lost his mind and wondered if this was all his effort had come down to: winning fights and obtaining awards.
He shrugged on his red undershirt and short-sleeved dress shirt. The weather had started to warm up and leaves began to form on the bare trees that lined the school grounds. Eventually, they will bud into blooming pink flowers only to drift slowly back down to the roots from whence it came. He buckled the belt around his pants, took his time tying on his brown leather shoes, and looped his sports bag over his head and on his shoulder. As he approached the double doors, he slowed down, hearing a commotion.
"Aaaah! We wanna see Akihiko-kun!"
"I told you already, leave us alone!"
"Awww, you're such a mean captain! I don't know how Akihiko-kun puts up with such a dweeb like you."
"Excuse me?! You think beating up people is all fun and games? Try making a bunch of guys wash their shorts!"
Akihiko sighed. He wondered if there was an alternative exit from this room, like maybe climbing out the window or a back door. He shook his head, clearing it of wishful thinking. He'd have to remind himself to treat the team captain to ramen sometime to thank him for his patience, or at least to console him of being called a dweeb. He braced himself and pushed the doors open.
Mitsuru leaned against the off-yellow walls of the gym hallway, thinking of how she should construct her words that would effectively convince him to take her seriously. Would he be convinced if she spouted grandiose solicitations for fighting for truth, justice and the betterment of mankind? She bit her lip. It's not a bad tactic; throughout history, scores of people became followers and champions of a cause simply for altruistic reasons or "doing what was considered right." When she really thought about it, this tactic extends to broad categories, from religion to the ecology, such as the Crusades of centuries past and the fight against global warming and alternative energy resources in modern day. Using "justice" and "the right reasons" are persuasive justifications for anyone, and given the right delivery, would not turn off potential crusaders.
But global warming and fighting monsters that appeared during a hidden hour at night aren't really comparable examples of "fighting for the right reasons." Just as a person does not regularly see a Shadow devour the mind of a fellow human being, one does not physically see a planet broiling in the heat of its own atmosphere. They can only see the results. But while there are opposing scientific resources that oppose whether the world is experiencing a drastic climate change or not, it is a feasible, real menace whose existence or the possibility it may exist cannot be denied.
Abstract monsters of a bizarre nature are not real to the public, save for those who actually worked in the shadows.
Mitsuru hung her head a little. She's thinking too hard on this, and now she couldn't keep her thoughts straight. From what she could judge from her peers' comments, and from what she had seen so far in his performances, Akihiko Sanada might be too practical to blindly be bought in by glittering ideals. She had seen it today, too; despite the brutish nature of boxing, she could plainly see his pragmatic strikes against his opponent, how calculating his defenses were. He's not easily tricked into an opening. And he would see her telling him outlandish tales of monsters in the dark as just that: a trick.
A noise around the corner from where she was standing disrupted her thoughts. She heard footsteps approaching, the strong clicks that boys make that differentiate the pitter-patter din that young girls made.
"Hey, thanks for driving them away, Matsui," one voice said. "I was just about to open the doors when you made that lame excuse."
"No problem, Sanada." Mitsuru snapped to attention. "I just can't believe they bought it. As if you'd actually organize an autograph booth on the other side of this gym…"
"Well, it sent them packing," replied Akihiko, chuckling. He and two other boys walked past Mitsuru, not noticing her against the wall of the other hallway, she unconsciously pressed her back further against the wall.
"For that, I'll treat you to ramen at Hagakure," said Akihiko, the sound of his voice beginning to trail away as the distance between him and Mitsuru widened her eyes.
"Really? No way! Thanks man!"
She watched them approach the exit doors, her mind racing if she should go after them or not. The coach from before said that there's usually a crowd following them at the end of the day, and she had seen them from the past two days, but for some reason they were nowhere to be seen. The athletes probably had a rare chance of eluding the group and are about to make their getaway. She stepped away from the wall and was about to go after them when one of them opened the door and a scream echoed throughout the halls.
"See! There he is!" a girl cried out.
"Oh my GAWD, Akihiko-kun, you were incredible at your last match."
"Hey! W-What're you guys doing here?!" cried Matsui, the captain.
One of the girls scoffed. "Tch. As if we'd believe your lame excuse of a lie. Waiting out here was much better, right girls?"
All the girls in the group proceeded to extol their appreciation to Akihiko, shoving forward en masse like a swarm of ants toward a picnic. Mitsuru looked at the scene with raised eyebrows. She had noticed the crowds that Akihiko apparently attracts, but she was never this close to these sort of people until now. The sight of the girls practically clawing their way through the two boys' spread-out arms, which made a pitiful yet effective barricade, and the blood-curdling high pitch shrieks from the fans made her flinch. It amazed her what ungodly actions human beings can do with their vocal cords. She couldn't help but stare blankly at the scene; she had never seen such… primal behavior from what she considered the fairer sex in her lifetime. It's almost embarrassing to watch, but like a car wreck she can't help but slow down and stop traffic to see the results.
Akihiko made an about face and went in the opposite direction. The girls started rushing forward only to be impeded by the steady arms of the disturbed boxing teammates.
"Aw, come on! We can't leave if you guys are still here," cried the boxing captain.
"Hold on a second," cried a deeper, masculine voice.
Matsui the boxing captain flinched in recognition. "Oh my god, not you again…" He gave a surprised yelp when he was shoved over against the wall and a man in a suit barreled through the mob.
"Hey you! Sanada-kun, right?"
From where she was standing, she saw Akihiko's eyes close, as though trying to summon all the inner-strength he has to not snap. He looked behind over his shoulder and replied, "That's right."
The man straightened himself up and held his lapels importantly. "That…" he paused for emphasis. "…was an amazing bout! I've never seen a junior high fighter deliver a KO like that! I'm with the school you were up against in the finals. What do you say about enrolling with us?" he wheedled. "You'll get a fat scholarship- you'll only get to pay half your tuition!"
Mitsuru smiled to herself. She'll give him a full scholarship if it came down to that, which she was what will happen anyway. The other student boxer helped up Matsui from the ground.
"Hey, you can't do that!" he spluttered. "That's against the rules and you know it!"
Akihiko turned around to face him. "Sorry, but I don't see any reason to join a school that places second." He jerked his head dismissively. "Get outta here."
Touché, Mitsuru thought to herself. The recruiter appeared very irritated, but was soon confronted by the girls who were watching on the sidelines.
"You hear that? He'd never go to your loser school!" The girl formed an L on her forehead at the man. The recruiter was about to retort when the two boxers proceeded to shove him and the female horde out the doors. The two boys followed them outside, the double doors slowly closing and clinking shut. Akihiko turned away from the door, sighing deeply and letting his jacket trail to the ground.
Mitsuru made her move.
"Couldn't you have handled that a little more politely?"
That jesting lilt, a hint of amusement with an air of authority, came from this girl standing before him, arms crossed in front of her slender waist, weight distributed evenly between her booted feet, and wavy red hair the color of autumn leaves cascading over her shoulders held back by a strip of black headband. He stared at her warily.
"I heard it gets crowded after practice, as well as other events, so I waited here instead." Her tone and voice reminded him strongly of how she walked toward him: precise and to the point. No dawdling, no letting syllables hang in the air like a sad dog's face. Not like any girl he had ever met.
She scrutinized him unabashedly. Sizing him up like he was on display. Like he was worth it. It stirred something within him, making him want to stare back at her imperiously, challengingly. "Third year, Class C… Akihiko Sanada," she stated, confirming herself.
He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.
"Whaddaya want?" He allowed her a chance to make her first move, not caring what it is she wanted but curious all the same. Most girls he knew were always full of energy, like they don't know how to control themselves. But her straight back, calm voice, and unwavering eyes made him want to slow down. Seconds dwindled like a thinning line of syrup, and dust motes swirled lazily in the light of windows. In the fast-paced fury of the ring and the uncontrollable urges from other people, both fighters and spectators, bombarded his senses, this lonely meeting with this strange girl made him feel conscious and unconscious of life passing its time.
She gave a teasing smile. "Aren't you going to ask who I am?"
Akihiko let up his stare a bit. Oh, so she's one of those people, he thought. He felt like the moment was ruined before it began, though he couldn't quite sure what he thought it would have led into.
"No need," he replied irritably, condescendingly. "Whatever you've come here for, I don't want to get involved." Then he used the same reasoning he said to everyone, whether they got it or not. "All I want to do is train and get stronger. I don't have time to cater to what anyone wants me to be." He made as though he was about to leave when she stepped closer to him, making him stop in his movements. He stared into her eyes, ringed with thick eyelashes, and he thought he could hear the swinging of her earrings.
"It's nothing troublesome," she promised in a soft voice. "I have a very simple request."
"A request?" he echoed.
"I have enemies that need defeating."
Akihiko blinked. Like the handle of a record player scratching the vinyl of a recording, he snapped back into clarity, alarm bells ringing. He scoffed to himself and gazed at her disbelievingly.
"Enemies?" he repeated incredulously. Before he let her continue he proceeded to state the absurdity. "I don't know what the heck you're selling, but I ain't buying. Enemies…" he echoed to himself. He walked away from the wall and turned around to face her. "What, is that what you think of me? That I'm like some sort of punk or something. I mean, hey," He threw up his arms admittedly, "maybe I sounded like that before but I'm not some goon-for-hire who throws his weight around." He couldn't help but jeer a little. "What, you got hitmen coming after you? Or you gotta grudge against someone who crossed you?" He scoffed and then scowled at her. "Well, thanks for appreciating my talents but as I've said before, I don't want to get involved."
He turned around, had a glance of her rosy lips turning into a petulant frown, and made way for the door. Maybe the coast is clear and he can finally go home.
"They're not people, I assure you," her voice carried in the hallway. "You wouldn't be bound by the rules of boxing." He thought of Shinji's words to him a couple weeks before, and it somehow resonated with this girl. But he didn't give a damn to the parallels of some crazy girl to his best friend.
"No," Mitsuru said in a low voice. "The enemies I speak of…" She closed her eyes and declared "…They are related to what you've been experiencing each midnight."
Akihiko stopped cold, and whirled around to face her, eyes wide and filled with everything that he felt since the first night he saw the lights go out and the world bled in the moonlight.
Mitsuru swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, feeling her nerves flare and became quite aware of how loud her heartbeat resonated in her ears. She almost felt affronted by how disdainful he was towards her (which was probably because of his regular encounters with those kind of girls for company). Although she was able to brush it off as puerile arrogance, there were some aspects of him that unnerved her. Though he was not that much taller than her, she felt alien feelings of being overwhelmed, that there was a hidden force behind that chevalier gaze when he leaned against the wall, apprising her, judging her that went beyond first appearances.
And there they were again. He turned around to face her, his eyebrows scowled in shock, the determined line of his mouth wanting to burst into questions that demand answers. He slowly walked back towards her.
Those grey eyes that smoldered like dark clouds around a mountain when he looked at her with mild interest. The same eyes that were hardened steel when he struck at his opponent back when she first saw him were like liquid mercury when he smirked at her request, when he made those distasteful assumptions as he ridiculed her. And just now, when that boy's body, which was a shadow what kind of man he would become, stood before her, erect and tense just as he was moments ago before his final fight in the ring, she couldn't help but felt a slight tremor in her heart.
"You see," she began quietly. "I'm in the same position." Now they regard each other with equal determination in their eyes, now they are equals with a shared burden. "I experience the same thing you do. The difference is, I know what it means."
Akihiko pressed his mouth into a thin line. Mitsuru stepped back, turning her body in a way that wanted him to follow her. "If you come with me, I'll share what I know with you."
He opened his mouth to speak, but then held back. He swallowed and in a low voice asked, "Who are you?"
Mitsuru brushed her hair back over her shoulder, resting her hand on her hip. "Mitsuru Kirijo," she replied proudly. "I'm a third-year, like yourself."
He looked away, shifting his eyes as though trying to scan something in his mind.
"Kirijo…" he said thoughtfully. "I've heard that name before."
Mitsuru couldn't help but give him a pointed look. Not only was he the first next would-be persona-user, as well as maybe the first boy she had taken an active interest into, and maybe the first who seemed so different above the rest in both personality and demeanor, he's also the first who actually had to think about what 'Kirijo' meant to him. Everyone else would jump to respected attention and awe after a simple introduction. She couldn't help but think that with all the contributions her family's company did, such as building a well-respected hospital and a high-maintenance school of learning, as well as some dark press regarding a certain unforgettable incident ten years ago, who wouldn't hear about the Kirijo name.
Something that felt like a bright yellow roadblock made her stop whatever impression it was that she had about him.
She recomposed herself, as well as trying to cover up what may have been dented pride, she gave the clincher. "You said you wanted to build your strength…" She reached in her school bag for the coup de grace, while also trying to suppress the surprising desire to make an outburst about who exactly she is.
"And with this, you can challenge 'them.'" She revealed the weapon in the late afternoon sun. Akihiko flinched at the gleaming object, instinctively stepping back with his arms raised in front of him in alarm.
"Whuh- whi-I- What?" he spluttered. He moved his mouth, though no sound came out, like a fish. "It's…"
"It's not a real gun," Mitsuru said quickly. "I-It's, well- it's too long for me to explain this fully. What I can tell you now is that you will need this when the time has come. When you will find that there are more dangerous things in this city than people, this will make difference between keeping your life and losing it."
Akihiko gave short sighs, his hand resting on his forehead. He turned a couple shades paler and his eyes began to look distraught, most likely from the heavy burden from his involvement in something so out of this world. Mitsuru gave him her sympathies. She was so used to what was expected of her by other people, and accepting it, that she didn't think of how others who are so ignorant to the truth of the real situation. She berated herself in her mind. She was so focused on wondering whether he'll accept the proposal or brush her off, that she didn't think of consequences. Now, seeing him so out of sorts, something that looked almost... uncharacteristic and foreign to him, she began to feel a creeping dread of what he might do…
Mitsuru's eyes widened at the thought.
"W-What is it?" he breathed out. Mitsuru looked at him questioningly.
"What was that place… that… I keep going to… Night after night at midnight…" He appeared to have calmed down somewhat. He covered his eyes with his hand, now looking so weary and drawn, like a taut rope suddenly being given some slack.
"The period of time you've experienced," Mitsuru began softly. "Is called the 'Dark Hour.' A period when all electronic devices have stopped and people transmogrified and slept in coffins."
Akihiko licked his lips, his hand leaving his eyes. He didn't look at her.
"Coffins… right," he said thoughtfully. "I had really thought that maybe I've, I dunno… Gone to the afterlife or something. And it was so quiet."
Mitsuru clutched the Evoker against her breast. "It is… unnerving. But, it's not at all as quiet as it appeared to be."
Akihiko gazed at her in alarm.
"If you wandered the city more closely, you would find something sinister lurking in the shadows…"
"…Monsters?" he asked suddenly. Mitsuru looked at him square in the eyes.
"…Yes."
Akihiko rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away the gnarled contortion on his brow. He laughed suddenly, mirthlessly.
"This has gotta be a joke. Some kind of really twisted prank. I mean," he chuckled. "You can't seriously make me believe that there's some… 'Hidden' hour or whatever and that people turn into coffins and that somewhere out there there's monsters. Give me a break!"
Mitsuru inhaled deeply, trying to draw a viable, concrete example. Then, she remembered.
"We've already seen the product of the precise danger we're in. Last week, there was a panic at this school…"
Akihiko stiffened, dreading, knowing what she was going to say. He bit his lip.
"…One of the students was an underclassman, but I think you may have known him. He was a member of our boxing team…"
"Don't say 'was,'" Akihiko interrupted. "He's not dead or anything. He's…"
"He's now one of the Lost," said Mitsuru. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be like that. But the appearance of Apathy Syndrome and The Lost are directly linked to the Dark Hour and the monsters that lurked there, those we call Shadows."
Akihiko clenched his fists at his sides. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth in agitation. Mitsuru walked towards him and held his hand. Akihiko looked up in surprise. She opened it and gave him the gun. She held both hand and weapon in her hands, looking at him straight in the eyes.
"This is an Evoker. It doesn't have any ammunition, but in case you are in danger, it will be of great help to you. When that time comes, you'll know what to do with it." She let go of him. "I must go now. If you need anything, I'm in class 3-B. You don't have to answer right now, but I would like one soon."
She walked around him and past him. He dimly heard the doors clang open and slowly shut closed. He stared at the Evoker in his hand. For a fake gun, it felt heavy and real in his hand. The letters S. E. E. S. were engraved on its side.
He dropped his arm and looked out at the quiet waning daylight outside the windows. He was so confused before, when walls began to bleed into the carpeting and people suddenly stopped being people. And now, just when there were answers provided, he was more confused than ever and wondered exactly what it is he will be facing.
Wow, I never thought that Mitsuru was this hard to write about. Seriously, this chapter kind of felt awkward. I may need to re-edit this or something.
But you know how you this long trail of first impressions and then there's always that something that made everything stop and be like "Wow, that kind of ruined it for me." Well, I hope that came across. Am I trying too hard to be sensual? Was the encounter too awkward? I'm sure in real life this would be a very awkward and frightening position, but- but- I don't know what to do with this…. Also, I used the script from The Answer to get this going, since it's canon and I'm just adding a little of my flair into it. I hope it wasn't in bad taste… Also, Portrait of a Lady is another T. S. Eliot poem. Check it out, if you want.